Unexpected
by cracked-out
Summary: A small favor has lasting consequences. Spoilers up to and including Ice, character name from finale. Explicit Dean/Carter, brief explicit Dean het, very brief Jaimie/OFC femslash. Read the warnings at top of story. On LJ with different pen name.


**Unexpected**

**Spoilers: Assume anything up to and including Ice is fair game. Also uses a character name not given until Shot in the Dark, although no other information from that ep.**

**Summary: A small favor has lasting consequences. **

**Pairing: Main pairing is Dean/Carter, with some explicit het involving Dean and a **_**tiny**_** bit of Jaimie/OFC femslash. **

**Timeline: Set post-Ice, pre-O.I.S. **

**Disclaimer: Not mine. All for fun, not for money.**

**Quick notes/warnings: Explicit slash, brief explicit het, blink-and-you'll-miss-it femslash, infidelity, mentions of underage prostitution, a few homophobic slurs, a little consensual bondage, and lots of swearing. I played with time a little--there's more time between K-town and Ice than there is (probably) in canon, and this presumes a few cases between them as well. I **_**think**_** that should cover it all :). This is on livejournal under a different pen name. Thanks to my betas for their services. Their contributions made this a much better story in more ways than I can express.**

1. Plotting

Dean figures he's just fucked in the head right now. He almost got killed, messed up a bust, found out Jaimie was back with Scott--hell, he thinks he's entitled to be. His life isn't that normal on a _good_ day, and this was far from one.

Seeing Ty with Melissa hurt somewhere he doesn't like to acknowledge. Not like he wants either one of them, but what they have together--he doesn't think he'll ever be there. Isn't even sure he wants to be, but it'd be nice to at least have the option.

As soon as he gets home, he starts pounding back the liquor as fast as he can drink it. He knows it isn't exactly good for him, but he needs the oblivion that straight Jack brings. Needs to not think for a while. Because right now, thinking is just going to lead to bad things. A little more liver damage sounds like a much better option.

Where his mind goes after nearly half the bottle scares the shit out of him, even as drunk as he is. It's not like Dean's never looked twice at a guy before, but he's never taken it farther than that. He's a cop, and most of the time he's being a crook. Neither go well with being anything other than straight, and most of the time, he's fine with that. Apparently, drunk off his ass, he's not so fine with it. Because he's thinking about Carter in ways that have little to do with their work relationship. And that makes him drink even faster, because this is so many kinds of wrong he can't begin to count them.

Yeah, his boss is twelve flavors of hot, but normally Carter doesn't make _him_ hot. Right now is obviously not normal, because right now he's wondering whether Carter ever relaxes enough to have a life beyond busting the next target and protecting his team. And his mind's providing some very graphic images of what he'd like to do to _make_ Carter relax.

His subconscious is obviously kinkier than he ever suspected. He closes his eyes, not sure if he's trying to blot out the image there or concentrate on it. He's seeing Carter, naked, laid out against the blue flannel sheets of Dean's bed, cuffed to the headboard with his own cuffs, and hard as hell. And he's seeing himself standing there at the end of the bed, just as naked and just as hard, eyes locked on Carter's. He climbs onto his bed and crawls up Carter's body, never breaking eye contact and making plenty of skin on skin contact as well. He reaches into the drawer of his nightstand and brings out the bottle of warming lube he knows is there. He slicks up the fingers on his right hand. He grabs a loose pillow from the floor with his left and slides it underneath Carter and then he starts sliding his fingers into Carter. He's done this before with some of the many women who've passed through his life, so he knows the drill. He's even tried it on himself a few times, something that he doesn't admit to anyone.

He's teasing Carter, stroking slowly with two fingers. Carter's biting his lower lip, trying desperately not to make a sound. Dean slips another finger in, feeling how tight Carter is around them. He plays some more, Carter's harsh breaths a counterpoint. When Dean bends his fingers and brushes the money spot, Carter finally lets out a stifled moan. Dean likes that sound. His dick _really_ likes that sound. He wants to keep hearing that sound, and he wonders what it would take to make Carter get louder as he continues the tease. Carter's probably prepped enough by now, but he makes sure to slick himself up anyway. Then he slides in slow, inch by inch. _He's _the one biting his lip now, trying for enough control to not just slam in. Until he's buried all the way in, feeling that burning heat. He pulls back out just as slowly, the coppery taste of blood in his mouth. He manages another slow thrust somehow, changing his angle slightly and tipping Carter's hips up a little more.

When he's all the way in again, he hears Carter's breathing get even choppier. He figures he's hit paydirt. He also decides to hell with taking this slow. He starts fucking Carter in earnest now. The little noises that Carter's making are music to his ears. He wonders if he can get him to beg. Just the thought of Carter begging--he's surprised he didn't come then and there. Part of him wants to make Carter come just getting fucked, but most of him doesn't think he's got enough control to do it, so he wraps one hand around Carter's dick and starts jacking him off. It only takes a few strokes to push Carter over the edge. Seeing the dazed look in Carter's eyes right now, hearing the sounds he's finally not holding back, is what snaps Dean out of his liquor fog.

He realizes he's hard despite drinking three-quarters of a bottle. _God, I am so fucked up. I can't believe what I was just thinking--there's no way I want to fuck the shit out of Carter. All those people who say drinking is bad for you are obviously right._

His cell rings then. He's grateful for the interruption to his thoughts, at least until he actually looks at who's calling. _Shit--I'm drunk as hell, I'm hard from thinking about fucking him, and I have to actually __**talk**__ to Carter now?_ He's seriously tempted to blow him off, but he likes his job and doesn't think that would be great for his job security. He tries as hard as he can to not slur his words when he answers, but Carter's first words are still, "You're drunk, aren't you?"

He thinks about trying to deny it, but decides it's pretty pointless. "I wasn't expecting to have to be sober tonight, so yeah."

"How soon _can_ you be sober? I got a job needs your...talents." Carter's voice almost sounds like he's flirting on that last word, and that's freaking him out more than he already is. "I wouldn't do this to you otherwise, but this one I can't send Jaimie on, and I think Ty would have problems with it."

"I drank most of a fifth of Jack, Carter. It's going to be a while," he admits, hoping the next words out of Carter's mouth aren't going to be an order to seek counseling for his booze habit. He doesn't drink like this all the time, but he does tend to get seriously drunk after the bad ones.

"I need you functioning at your usual level and not too hungover to find a cup of coffee tomorrow."

"Can you deal with eleven?" Dean'd really like to sleep later than that, but if Carter's calling him this late, it's probably important.

"Is that the best I'm going to get?" Carter almost sounds amused. He's seen Dean half-awake morning meets after late nights undercover enough that he probably is amused. The image that flashes across Dean's mind of Carter smiling that little grin of his at his efforts to wake up really shouldn't make him hot. He chalks it up to the Jack--hell, he's chalking this whole evening up to the Jack.

"If you want me functioning and not stumbling around like a zombie going 'mmm, i can haz coffee' than yes, that is the best you're going to get." Oops, talking lolcats to his boss probably isn't a great idea either, but too late now.

Carter _really_ sounds amused now. "You can even haz cinnamon rolls. I'll have a half dozen from that bakery up the street ready when you show up."

He's seriously starting to worry. Dean's honest--he's got a sweet tooth, and 'that bakery up the street' makes the best cinnamon rolls he's ever had. The last time he ate them, he made embarrassing noises that no one should make over food while sober. He was half expecting Carter to tell him he was up for a drug test because of it. He's sure Carter's trying to bribe him, and that makes him wonder what the hell he's going to have to do _this _time.

"Go drink a gallon of water and crash now so you're human in the morning."

"Yes, Dad." What the hell--nothing yet has gotten Carter annoyed, and he _did_ sound a little like what Dean assumes is fatherly. Not like he had enough of a father figure growing up to know. For all that his life looked picket-fence-perfect on the outside, the inside was a different story.

That gets an actual laugh out of Carter before he hangs up. A tiny one, but still a laugh. Dean feels ridiculously proud of himself--Carter's so damn serious all the time that making him laugh is practically a Guinness-level accomplishment.

He _does _drink a bunch of water before he heads to bed, though. Normally he'd jack off, too, but he doesn't want to think about what might come to mind this time. He's had enough cottonmouthed mornings to want to avoid another one. If he dreams, he doesn't remember them, and he's grateful about that. He doesn't need flashbacks from this last assignment, and he _really_ doesn't need replays of his earlier thoughts about Carter.

He wakes up at ten wishing he could hit the snooze bar a few more times. He doesn't even waste time with coffee--today's a Red Bull and Mountain Dew day for sure. He chugs a little can of the first, grabs a 20 ounce of the second, and throws some vaguely appropriate clothes on. Hopefully, he'll get more details as to what he's supposed to do when he sees Carter.

Carter opens the door when he knocks. He walks in, smelling freshly heated rolls and good coffee. The look on Carter's face is making him really wonder what's going on. Carter looks embarrassed, something Dean didn't think he ever managed.

"Okay, what's up? What are you trying to bribe me into doing?" as he grabs his first roll.

Carter's very carefully not looking at him as he explains, "I have a personal favor to ask you. You can say no--it won't affect your job. You can even transfer out if you can't work with me any more because of this and I'll give you a sterling recommendation."

He looks over at Carter, and nearly smiles, realizing his incredibly controlled boss looks even more embarrassed now. "Why wouldn't Jaimie or Ty work for this _personal favor_?" He takes another bite and nearly spits it out when he hears what Carter has to say next.

"Ty's married and Jaimie's female. I kind of gave my mom the impression I had a boyfriend when she was all worried because I haven't seen anyone since... since".

Dean didn't know someone could sound embarrassed and emotionally beat up at the same time. He doesn't know details, but he knows Carter used to be married and isn't anymore. He's never asked--not like he likes to talk about his personal life either. "And you're volunteering _me_? And why boyfriend?"

"Because it was the first thing that came to my mind when she was trying to set me up with the daughter of one of her friends." Carter's staring at his shoes like they're the most fascinating thing in the universe, and Dean doesn't know whether to laugh or be pissed off. "As for why you--you'd be the best I know at pulling it off if you were willing."

"Wait a minute, you've been married, why would your mom believe you _had_ a boyfriend?" Dean can't believe he's even bothering to apply logic to this situation. Being asked to be his boss's fake boyfriend to keep his mom from worrying is definitely not the undercover job he'd been expecting to have to do this morning. He's beginning to wonder if he never woke up and this is all a particularly vivid and bizarre Jack dream.

"She walked in on me kissing a guy when I was twenty, that's why. Before I ever met Nicole."

Today has apparently been declared surreality day. Dean's really wishing he'd wake up, but he's pretty sure he's already there. He pinches himself discreetly just in case, but it does hurt and he's still sitting in the loft with a Carter who won't meet his eyes. A Carter who sleeps with men sometimes. He can't believe what he says next. He blames it on the cinnamon roll bribery and still being too hungover to really give a shit right now. And yeah, maybe a little relief that _this_ undercover assignment isn't likely to get him nearly killed. "What exactly am I agreeing to if I say yes?"

"You're not going to punch me and demand a transfer?" Carter sounds like he's in shock.

Truthfully, Dean is, too. But he's done worse for far worse reasons. He wishes briefly that he had a mom who still worried enough to care who he's seeing or how he's doing. He hasn't seen his mother in almost two years, and that was hardly a happy family get-together. As long as convincing Carter's mom he's actually over his wife doesn't take too much, it'll be the easiest undercover gig he's ever had. God knows he's pulled off far more difficult scams than acting like he thinks Carter's hot. And if a little voice in the back of his head says he won't have to act all that much considering what he was thinking last night, he does his best to ignore it. "I'm not going to punch you for asking. I reserve the right to request a transfer afterwards if this makes it weird, though."

"But you're willing to help out?" Carter still sounds like he's in shock, and he still won't meet Dean's eyes.

"Yeah, as long as you give me some background information. I'm treating this as a particularly warped job, which means I need to know what I'm in for."

"We usually eat together every so often, and I came home to a message that she wanted to meet you. She wants to have dinner with the two of us at my house tomorrow night. I didn't tell her your name or any real details, just said you were someone I worked with. She knows I'm still a cop, but I don't tell her what I do--she believes the public version. It's not safe for me or even for her to know what I really do. So just be the company version of yourself--like you'd be if you were meeting your girlfriend's parents for the first time."

"Carter, I don't date, okay? I'm not fucking up somebody's life trying to have an actual relationship when I spend most of my life being somebody I'm not. And before I was undercover, I _still_ didn't date. I've never met somebody's parents in my life. I'm not you or Ty. " Dean doesn't usually care that he's Mr. One-Night-Stand. He still thinks Ty's crazy for trying to have it all. He shouldn't have to feel ashamed that he has no experience in this department, even though he kind of is right now.

"Just follow my lead and play it by ear. You going to be okay with me touching you, maybe even kissing you goodnight?" Carter's finally actually looking at him, and it's _Dean_ that wants to look away now.

Because something in the way that Carter's staring at him is a little more intimate than he's really comfortable being with anyone, let alone his very male boss. He's never been the kind of guy to back down from a challenge, though. He decides, _might as well find out if I can't take it now_, and steps into Carter's personal space, practically crawling onto his lap. The little voice in the back of his head is screaming as he tips Carter's head up and very carefully kisses him, dry and closed-mouth. When Carter starts kissing him back, the voice finally shuts up because Dean's mind is shutting off. He wasn't expecting this to actually feel good, and what's left of his mind is a confused mess of arousal and worry, both about his own sexuality and about his job. Carter's tongue is teasing along his lips now, and his hands are tracing circles on Dean's back under his T-shirt.

Dean pulls back when he realizes he's starting to get hard. He doesn't think either of them really want to deal with that right now, especially since he's pretty sure Carter's getting there too. Carter's got an excuse--he's done the guy thing before. Dean doesn't. "That good enough to convince your mom I'm dating you?" Dean's glad for all that undercover experience--it's great for keeping your voice and face steady under any and all situations.

Carter's looking a little flustered. Dean can't help thinking it looks good on him. Can't help thinking he'd like to make him look like that again. "I didn't mean..." he trails off.

"Didn't mean I had to find out that way? Look, would you rather you touched me and I flinched in front of your mom? I thought the point of this whole thing was looking convincing. I'd rather find out whether I could deal in private than with an audience. At least this way we both know."

"I really didn't need to know you kiss that well. I don't think that's going to help our professional relationship."

Dean's smartass side comes out with, "Well, you shouldn't have asked me if you didn't think _you_ could handle it. You're the one that's done guys before, why are you the one freaking out now?"

"_Because_ I've done guys before. A lot of cops would be ready to kick my ass just for that." Carter's looking away again. "They wouldn't be saying okay to pretending to be my boyfriend and kissing me."

Dean was good at reading people even before he went undercover, and he's even better now. "Somebody did, didn't they? Partner, maybe?"

"Yeah. I was already married, I wasn't hitting on him. We were close and it slipped out one night on a stakeout. He didn't kick my ass physically, but..." Carter shakes his head slowly, a sardonic little twist to his mouth.

"But that probably would have hurt less?" Dean suggests. "Called you some names, asked for a transfer, maybe even said why?"

"Called me a fag, told me he was going to tell my wife, got himself transferred as soon as he could--didn't say why, though." Carter's eyes are shadowed with remembered pain.

"Your wife know?" Dean's curious now. Carter never talks about his wife, but maybe as weird as this morning's been so far, he'll let something slip.

"I told her when we started getting serious. First person I actually told--my mom knew, but because she saw me, not because I told her. My father _still_ doesn't know unless Mom said something. He's got the standard amount of stereotypical cop homophobia, so I'm not about to let him know and you don't need to worry about meeting him.

"I thought Nicole had the right to know, and I was pretty sure by then that if she couldn't handle being with me because of it, she'd just dump me, not tell everybody. She just smiled and told me about her best friend back in high school and how they had a thing going for a couple months. Said a lot of people weren't 100% straight."

They leave it at that for the moment. Neither of them's really up to getting any more emotional than they have already.

2. Nightcap

Dean heads back home after finding out what time he needs to be at dinner and how to get to Carter's house. He makes sure to snag the rest of the cinnamon rolls first, though.

That night, Dean starts jerking off thinking about Jaimie. He's taking his time about it, pinching his nipples, drawing circles on his inner thighs, stroking his dick too slow and too soft to be anything but a tease. He could go get laid, but right now he doesn't feel up to the effort of talking some random woman into bed, and he doesn't feel like fucking up Jaimie's life if she's really trying to make it work with Scott. Thinking is starting to make him lose the feeling-good vibe he's been working for the last few minutes, so he grips himself a little harder, moves his hand a little faster, and tries to think about someone else. His mind flips through a few assorted actresses and singers, but none of them are doing it for him tonight. He needs something different to push him over the edge before the pleasure turns painful.

Where his mind goes next is definitely something different, all right. He flashes back to earlier, sitting in Carter's lap and kissing him and how he'd kind of wanted to keep going. He wonders what it would have been like if he hadn't pulled back, what it would have felt like grinding his hard-on against Carter's. A flash of Carter tipping him onto his back, pulling his shirt off, and nibbling down his neck while he unbuttoned his jeans and wrapped his hand around Dean's dick makes him come, surprised as hell, and harder than he ever normally does by himself.

He just lays there for a couple minutes, still breathing hard and not ready to think yet. When his thought processes finally start back up, he wants to reach for the liquor all over again. He really doesn't want to deal with having just got off thinking about his boss. His _male, bisexual_ boss. He isn't sure which of the three is throwing him the worst. He _also_ isn't sure how he's getting through tomorrow night pretending that they're dating for Carter's mom's benefit. Because he knows there's going to be some body contact involved, maybe even another kiss. He'd have an easier time if it was all fake--as is, he's not sure how he's supposed to be intimate enough to fool their audience without giving away the fact that it won't all be a lie for him. He's a damn good liar, but he's never been good at lying to Carter. He can get away with plenty of the leaving-stuff-out kind, but straight up lying if Carter asks him--not so easy.

He's really hoping Carter chalks whatever happens up to his undercover skills, because there's no way he's up for a heart-to-heart chat. Hell, that's why he doesn't normally do more than one-nighters, so he doesn't _have_ to deal with anything more emotionally complicated than "okay, what works for you, you got anything you hate, any bulletproof kinks I should know about" and so on. And if a little chunk of his obviously fucked-up head wants to know if Carter has any bulletproof kinks, if Carter's ever actually thought about him _like that_, he isn't going to acknowledge it.

3. Michelle

Dean's sitting on Carter's couch talking to his mom while Carter's busy slicing up vegetables to stir-fry. He was expecting this to be really awkward, but it turns out Michelle's incredible at putting people at ease. He knows where Carter got his eyes from now--hers are almost identical. He thinks he knows where Carter got that caretaking thing he has, too.

He calls out to Carter, "You should put your mom to work interrogating suspects. She'd have them telling her every last detail in no time."

Carter laughs a little at that, and the sound makes Dean smile. He's doing his best to make it look real between the two of them, and it's proving almost frighteningly easy so far. Carter'd greeted him at the door with a hug and a little peck-on-the-lips hello kiss and he hadn't flinched a bit. He figures after crawling into his lap, any Mom-safe displays of affection probably aren't going to faze him much.

"Just wait until you taste her Key lime pie. You'll be confessing all your secrets for a second piece."

Dean gets a flash of Carter licking the last taste of pie from his fork at that. Normally, he'd be trying to repress what that imagery does to him in the interests of maintaining his heterosexuality, but right now he's going with it. "Mmm. I really appreciate you feeding my sweet tooth," he says to both of them.

"Honey, I'd do a lot worse things than make pie for the man who's making my baby laugh again. After Nicole, I really thought he was going to bury himself in work forever," Michelle beams at him. He's starting to feel guilty that they're lying to this really nice woman. He's also starting to understand _why_ Carter lied. He can completely see Michelle trying to set 'her baby' up with the best of intentions, and he can also see Carter coming up with the first thing he could think of to derail her.

He's curious about something, though, and he thinks this might be a good time to ask. "You're really okay that I _am_ a man? Not like I have much experience meeting parents. I'm not normally the guy that they take home to meet mama." Which is even true, although very misleading.

"I've known for sure that Carter was bi since he was twenty, and I suspected long before that. I've had a long time to get used to the idea that some day, he might be introducing me to his boyfriend and not his girlfriend or even his wife." And yeah, that makes sense, or at least as much as any of this makes sense.

Her next question surprises him a little, but when he thinks about it, it really shouldn't have. "What about your parents? Have they met Carter yet?"

"I've barely talked to my family since I chose being a cop over the white-collar job they wanted, and they think I'm completely straight, so they have not met Carter and aren't likely to. They've made some remarks over the years that make me think they wouldn't take it anywhere as well as you are." He's surprised he's being this honest, and he really hopes he didn't just blow Carter's cover. He doesn't know what exactly Carter told his mom. He can't believe a couple of undercover veterans didn't go over their stories better than they had. In his defense, he was still pretty thrown by the whole situation, and he thinks Carter might have been a little too. He knows Carter hadn't expected him to say yes.

Michelle looks at him sympathetically. "I'm sorry they can't accept who you are any better than that. If I knew you a little better, I'd offer to consider you family if you wanted. Down the line, maybe?"

He's breathing a sigh of relief knowing that he's off the hook as far as meeting Carter's father is concerned. Meeting Michelle's been strange enough.

Carter calls from the kitchen, "Stir-fry's ready, come get your plates."

He's pleasantly surprised at how tasty it is. He's not too sure what's in the sauce, but it's spicy without killing his tastebuds and complements the shrimp and vegetables nicely. There's two bottles of chilled sparkling grape juice--he doesn't know why it's not wine, but there's no way he's asking _that_ question. It's good, anyway, so he'll just roll with it. The bread that accompanies it tastes fresh-baked, and is just as delicious as the main course. They down almost all of what seemed to be a huge pile of stir-fry. This is definitely a benefit of being a fake boyfriend he hadn't anticipated.

Once they've finished, Michelle and Dean offer to help clean up, but Carter just smiles and says he'll do it later. They're all too full to properly appreciate pie just yet. Carter sits next to him on the couch and puts a casual arm around him, and it almost feels natural. He doesn't have a problem with leaning into him, anyway. He's not usually a big fan of cuddling, but he appreciates the added touch to the domestic picture they're doing their best to paint.

Michelle's smiling, so they're succeeding in fooling their target audience.

They chitchat for a bit until they're ready for dessert. Carter wasn't lying about his mom's pie--it's damn good. Dean's sweet tooth is _very_ happy right now. Carter throws him for a little bit of a loop when he feeds Dean the last bite of his. He hadn't been expecting that at all, and he hopes his surprise isn't noticeable. Once they finish the pie and let it digest a little, Carter starts cleaning up. Dean gets up to help--he thinks if he really _was_ Carter's boyfriend, he probably would, and he also thinks the meal was good enough that Carter deserves some help cleaning up afterwards.

Michelle says she has to get home shortly after they've finished with the kitchen. She hugs Carter and tells him that she loves him and not to be a stranger. The hug she offers Dean is _also_ a little unexpected, but it still feels good. And when she tells Dean to "take care of him--he's not too good at taking care of himself", he doesn't have to lie much when he says that he'll do his best. Maybe not for the reasons she's thinking, but seeing Carter relax around her is making him want Carter to _stay_ at least a little more relaxed than he usually is.

4. Undercover

Dean's back under for another go-round. This time he's posing as Dante Bennington, big-time South Texas drug supplier with a pipeline straight from Mexico. He's scheduled to meet with his target in two hours, and he's running over every detail he can, both who _he's_ supposed to be and who he's meeting.

He's not anticipating major problems. His Spanish's fluent, and he's made sure he's up on the differences between Cali and Tex-Mex Spanglish if that comes up. This deal's been in English so far, but he's not taking unnecessary chances. Since he's selling, he doesn't expect to be offered samples. If he is, he'll pull out the line about not using his product, just selling it. Plenty of high-level dealers don't, so he doubts anyone'll be too suspicious. If that doesn't work--well, it won't be the first time he's used under.

The deal starts out fine. He meets Thomas no-last-name in his hotel suite, presents his samples, has their purity tested and sees them come out well within specs. They plan the actual exchange for 2 AM, and he breathes a mental sigh of relief that so far so good. He doesn't expect what happens next. "How about a little additional treat to cement the deal?"

He's already thinking fast, trying to come up with some way to say no. For some reason, this guy is making _him_ want to take a long shower to scrub his filth off--he seriously doubts he's going to like any treat he comes up with. When he sees the girl come out of the next room dressed in hooker finery, he can't completely control his face. She's fourteen at most, and her eyes are more jaded than _anyone's _should be. "Not my taste, sorry," he grits out.

"She's very skilled. I've tried her out myself."

Dean's using every bit of control he's got to keep from just wasting this guy right here and to hell with the deal. "Still not interested."

The smile on his target's face is pure evil and not any of the fun kinds. "Don't like women or something?"

Dean usually wouldn't use what suddenly comes to mind on a job. Most of the time, _it'd _get him killed. He blames it all on that little charade back when. If Jaimie wasn't under on her own case, he'd use her as an excuse instead, but what the hell, it's worked before. "Got a jealous boyfriend who wouldn't appreciate my stepping out at all, but thanks anyway."

"Funny you didn't mention this before."

He can tell Thomas isn't buying this--he needs to step it up a notch. "I don't exactly advertise it. Bad for business, and I like to keep my personal life separate from work besides." And that's the truth--he's heard 'fag' and 'homo' in several languages so many times under that if he had a buck for every time, he could retire a rich man.

He didn't think an actual person could look as much like the devil as Thomas does right now. "I want to meet him, or the deal's off. I don't mind dealing with a fag if the product's this good, but I'm not getting busted dealing with a cop, and that's the only other reason you'd turn down Natasha. She's getting a little old, but she's still a damn fine lay." If Dean had a throw-down, Thomas would be dead here and now. He's cursing himself for not bringing one.

"Tonight okay? We can have drinks or something." He's not about to offer dinner--he wouldn't be able to eat a bite. He isn't sure how he's going to break this to Carter. There's no way in hell he's going to try faking it with Ty, for several good reasons--married, for one, and this guy's already thrown a few racist jokes in the mix so he might call it off just for the interracial bit. Ty's usually good with curveballs, but Dean's not sure he'd be up to this one. Carter--well, _not_ married, white, and they've already pulled it off once, even if it was a way less critical situation. Carter'll do damn near anything to protect his people, but this definitely falls in the 'above and beyond' category, especially if they have to do more than they already have to sell this cover.

"Eight tonight, the bar downstairs. Remember--no boyfriend, no deal," Thomas repeats.

He escapes to the suite he's occupying for the duration of this assignment finally. He pages Carter with the emergency code they'd set up before and waits anxiously for what seems like forever despite the clock claiming it's barely a minute.

"What's wrong?" Carter sounds worried. Dean almost never uses that code, and it's never good news when he does.

If the situation wasn't so critical, Dean'd be laughing a little at the next thing he says. "Hey, honey, everything's fine except the buyer wants to meet you too. Wants to make nice downstairs at eight. Bring whatever you think we might need to spice up the night a little."

Carter's quick on the uptake, thank God. "Okay, _darling_, I can't be there until six, but I'll make sure to bring some things to play with when I come. I'm looking forward to testing out that huge bed with you."

That hour goes by incredibly slowly. He loses track of how many times he checks his cell. Usually, time under flies from the constant adrenaline rush. Dean's really wishing that would happen now. When he _finally _hears a knock on the door, he pulls his boot gun out, stands out of the direct line of fire through the door, and asks loudly, "That you?"

"Open up already, Dante," and that's definitely Carter's voice. He doesn't tuck his gun away yet, but he does open the door, still standing out of the line of fire. Not that it'll do much good, but every little bit helps.

Carter's carrying a suit bag and a briefcase in his left hand. He looks freshly showered and way more put together than Dean feels right now. "I thought you might want to dress up a little more for this. You said to come prepared, after all."

Dean doesn't _think_ his suite's bugged, but he hasn't survived this long under without a certain amount of healthy paranoia. He lets Carter hang the suit bag up and put the briefcase on the table before pulling Carter into the bathroom and turning the shower on full blast. It's not perfect for foiling an audio pickup, but it's the best and most believable way he can easily manage. Even then, he's whispering when he explains the problem. "I need you to be publicly mine for once. You okay with it?"

Carter looks relieved at that, and what he says next loosens the knot of tension that's been sitting uneasily in Dean's stomach for the last hour to something bearable. "Not a problem, just not something I expected. You're usually trying to hide me, not show me off."

Dean's glad Carter got the picture without having to spell it out any more than that. "Thomas had a little something extra that I had to bring you up to politely refuse or I wouldn't have. Not like most buyers are cool with it." He wonders if his little 'something extras' are why Thomas was looking for a new supplier. If so, apparently even dealers have a few lines they won't cross.

"It's fine, Dante. Want me to scrub your back?" Carter's got that little grin going again, and Dean's trying not to react inappropriately to it.

"I'm cool. Don't want to mess up that nice suit until _afterwards. _Go pick me out munchies from room service or something." Carter's playing the boyfriend role up _all_ the way. Dean's expecting to get teased for this _forever_, but if he walks out alive with Thomas busted he'll consider it a fair price to pay. He'd love to make Thomas a dead body, but he'll take locked up as a consolation prize. He just hopes Ty never hears about this. He doesn't want Jaimie to hear about it, either, but he thinks she could probably deal with a little guy-guy flirting as long as it's just cover. Ty--well, he's not so sure Ty can.

Dean decides actually taking a shower might be a good idea. When he's done appreciating the wonders of hotel water pressure, he wanders out into the main room with a towel wrapped around his waist.

Carter's sitting in one of the big easy chairs with the room service menu spread out on the table. "What sounds good? I'm trying to decide between the seafood primavera penne and the quesadillas."

"No clue on the quesadillas, but I had some shrimp thing last night that made my taste buds cheer. I'd go with the seafood. And I want something fairly light since we're working tonight." Dean usually doesn't have much of an appetite when he's under. One time when he was under for two months, he came back almost ten pounds lighter. It's not a side effect he's fond of, but it's one he's learned to live with.

"Appetizer sampler sound good? Stuffed mushrooms, fried calamari, and toasted ravioli."

Dean isn't a huge fan of squid, but almost anything's good fried. "Sounds fine. Do I get to steal a few bites of yours?"

"We can trade, no problem." Carter calls in the order while Dean looks over the outfit he's brought. Carter's got good taste--it's classy without being out of line with the boots Dante's going to be wearing.

He's distracted from that line of thought by Carter popping the briefcase open. He sits down in the other chair to examine the contents. Carter's brought the documents for his Shiloh Quinn identity, a short ceramic knife that'll fit nicely in his other boot sheath, his usual gun and clip, and a few bundles of hundreds. He's pretty sure that Carter brought the rest of what's in there to make him laugh a little, because he seriously doubts that he actually planned to use the zip-lock of condoms and lube.

"You really did come prepared for anything, didn't you?" Dean can't deny that the extras did amuse him. And if a tiny little piece of his mind's thinking how Dante and Shiloh might put them to use after their meet tonight, well, it's all in the name of getting into character, right? He _is_ going to have to pretend that they're together in a little more than an hour, after all.

Carter just looks at him, amusement in his eyes. "I'm a full-service partner, you should know that by now. We just celebrated our first year together last week, after all."

He's impressed--Carter's managed to tell him how long they've supposedly been together in a way that even if the suite _is_ bugged, shouldn't be particularly suspicious. Now they just need to firm up how they met and how Shiloh's involved in his business. He's thinking ace in the hole, silent partner sort of deal for Shiloh's role. That and their supposed personal relationship would explain why he hadn't introduced him to Thomas initially. "You make a hell of a silent partner, too."

Carter catches the addition to their backstory, giving him a very slight nod and running with it. "I should, considering that's how we met in the first place, you wanting to know who the money man was. How was I supposed to resist the kind of terms you were throwing at me to get me to come work with you?"

"If I'd known I could have just made an indecent proposal..."

"My business services don't come that cheap. I demand cold, hard cash for those. You could have had me personally that way, but you wanted the whole package."

"What can I say? I'm the kind of guy who wants it all."

Their banter is interrupted by a knock on the door and an announcement of "Room service". Dean still pulls a gun and opens the door cautiously, but there's only a cart of food outside. He wheels it in and they start eating. The food demands their full attention until the last bite's devoured. As promised, Carter swaps a couple bites of penne for one of Dean's ravioli. He doesn't feed it to Dean this time, for which Dean's grateful. Carter being almost-flirty with him when he's pretty sure they're not actually being observed is not something he wants to deal with. He's already on the verge of a sexual identity crisis without adding any more fuel to the fire.

He wants to think that no part of him is going to enjoy whatever they have to do to sell this to Thomas, but the little voice in the back of his head is saying 'bullshit'. Considering he's jacked off thinking about Carter, the voice may have a point, much as he'd rather not admit it even to himself. For the sake of his sanity and possibly Carter's, he hopes they don't have to do more than they've already done, though. Carter's too much a pro not to play along, whatever it takes, but Dean doesn't know how he's going to react afterwards if convincing Thomas takes more than a little suggestive behavior. Hell, Dean's not even sure how _he's_ going to react.

"Time to start getting ready for a command performance. I'm seriously tempted to jack the price just for putting us through this crap." If Dean really was Dante, he would. It's none of Thomas's damn business who or what Dean does in his personal life.

"How about trying for his _something extra_ permanently instead of on a temporary loan instead? Even if we're not personally interested, whoever they are is probably worth something on the open market. Demanding more money might blow the deal, but a throw-in like that probably won't."

Dean thinks that's an excellent suggestion. He wants Natasha to at least have a fighting chance to be something besides Thomas's whore. "He called her Natasha. He also said she's getting a little old, which is pretty disgusting considering she looks barely fourteen except for her eyes. I think he'd be willing to." Dean's getting dressed in a black suit with subtle pinstripes. Carter brought a shirt that's such a dark green it's almost black and a black bolo tie set with a piece of what looks like malachite. Black Tony Lamas complete the picture. He checks both of them out in the full-length mirror and decides they'll pass inspection. He's a little surprised that he notices how well Carter's dark blue band-collared shirt goes with his eyes.

He's got his boot weapons--not the best place to carry, but way better than nothing. _He_ can tell Carter's carrying, but his favorite gun is hidden well enough that civilians aren't going to spot it. Thomas'll probably notice, but paranoia is par for the course in the drug business. If he thinks part of Shiloh's job description is bodyguard, it's not going to surprise him.

"You look fine. Let's head downstairs and get set up."

They're lucky. They find a corner booth that gives them a view of the entrance _and_ lets them keep their backs to the wall. They're sitting next to each other, so close that Dean can feel the heat from Carter's body through both their suits. Carter's got his right hand where he can get to his gun fast and his left on Dean's right knee. Dean's a little distracted from all that contact. He snaps back into undercover mode when Thomas walks over, though. They're waiting on the bucket of Dos Equis they've already ordered. Drinking something they haven't personally opened is a rookie mistake.

When Thomas sits down, he asks, "So this is the jealous boyfriend, huh? He anything else to you but a pretty face?"

Dean laughs a little at that. "He's also my ace in the hole. He's the guy who turns my profits into something I can claim on taxes so the IRS doesn't get my ass, and a hell of a backup since he has a very _personal_ stake in keeping me alive and kicking."

"That why he's carrying?"

He'd been hoping Thomas wouldn't notice, but obviously his luck isn't that good. "Yeah. He's practically sharpshooter caliber." He's seen Carter shoot--that isn't much of a lie.

"If he's really yours, prove it," Thomas challenges. "Sure, you're all snuggled up, but that doesn't prove much."

"What do you want? I don't fuck for an audience or a camera, so if you're that freaky, that's your problem. I can find a buyer who won't care what I do personally as long as the product's good, you know." Dean's worried this is going to blow the deal, but there's a limit to what even he'll do. He's not about to put on that kind of show for this scumbag.

Thomas looks disappointed, which is only making the homicidal urges stronger. "I want to see you at least kiss, or this is off. And it better be good--I'm not talking any peck on the cheek bullshit here."

Dean's never thought he was going to be grateful for having kissed Carter before, but he is right now. This is nothing he hasn't done already, and he isn't planning on coming back here any time soon, so having an audience doesn't faze him. Sitting on Carter's lap again would be really awkward space-wise, or he would have done it. He puts his hands in Carter's hair, using them to turn his head. He starts kissing him hard and open-mouthed, like they've done it a thousand times before. Carter's tongue is playing with his right now, and his hands are fanned out over Dean's hips. When they finally come up for air, he starts nibbling his way down Carter's neck, deliberately marking him up. He hits Carter's shirt collar before Carter stops him and returns the favor. He was already a little turned on, and what Carter's lips and teeth are doing to his neck is getting him hotter fast. He looks down quickly and sees he's not the only one getting...interested.

He's not sure what to feel when Carter quits. He asks, "Have you seen enough? Because I'd much rather get laid right now than jump through any more of your hoops. And I want Natasha permanently for putting us through this shit. I owe a guy a favor who'd love her." A part of him that he's not ready to acknowledge didn't want Carter to stop. That same part wonders what that talented mouth would have felt like on his nipples, or better yet his dick.

Thomas still looks disappointed that he didn't get more of a show, but he agrees to everything, even Natasha as a throw-in.

Carter and Dean hit the elevator to Dean's suite to kill some time before the exchange. They head out early to pick up the product so they're in place before Thomas gets there. Neither one of them expected Thomas to try a jack. Dean's not sure how he managed to get his boot gun out fast enough to shoot back, but he's hardly sorry about it when he realizes Thomas is R.I.P. He's just happy they're still alive and so is Natasha.

Carter puts in a call to an emergency foster care contact of his to come get Natasha. They have to do a little fast-talking to get her to leave with someone she doesn't know without blowing their covers, but they manage it somehow.

5. Revelation

Dean's tempted not to come in the afternoon after he kills Thomas. He's facing IA two days from now for the shooting, and he's not looking forward to it even if it was a righteous kill. He's worried the shooting board is going to be able to tell how much he enjoyed knowing the earth has one less sick bastard walking it now. He also has a hell of a hangover--his tolerance must be shrinking. It's not making the end-of-assignment paperwork any easier to face.

Ty takes one look at him and says, "What the hell happened to you?"

"I had to kill the target. He tried to pull a jack." Dean didn't even bother looking in a mirror. He doubts he'd like what he saw right now. "I spent the rest of last night pounding back our friend Mr. Daniels until I finally passed out."

"That's not what I was talking about, although you _do_ look pretty hungover. Damn, Dean, did you look in the mirror this morning?" Ty sounds honestly concerned. Dean appreciates it, but he's worried at the same time. And when Ty speaks again, he realizes he has plenty of reason to worry. "You've got a hell of a hickey, which is something I'm not sure I've ever seen you with before. And I _know_ I've never seen you with one right after you've been under. I repeat, what the hell happened to you?"

"Don't go there, Ty. It sold the cover, that's all that should matter." Dean's praying hard that Carter doesn't look the same, because Ty's not stupid by a long shot.

Carter walks in the door even more marked up than Dean, and something in the look he gives Dean makes Ty swear under his breath and ask, "Since when do either of you do guys? How long you been on the down low?"

"I _told_ you not to go there. Would you have preferred me to fuck a fourteen-year-old instead? Because that was the other option. I had about fifteen seconds to find a way out of it that wouldn't blow my cover. Making out with Carter was the best one I could think of under that kind of time pressure." Dean's practically spitting the words out. "Would you have liked me to call _you_ up to play the jealous boyfriend instead? You're damn good undercover, but I don't think you could have pulled that one off. Not from your reaction right now."

"I really didn't want to know that." Ty's shaking his head, trying to deny the evidence plainly in front of him.

"Tough. You asked, if you can't deal, that's your problem, not mine and not Carter's," Dean says. He's really tempted to say this wasn't the first time just to completely fuck with Ty's head, he's that pissed right now. The only reason he isn't is that it's not just his ass on the line and Carter's got more to lose here than he does.

Carter looks about as pissed as Dean is right now. "If you have that big a problem with this, you can always transfer out. What the hell would you have done? Blown your cover? It worked, that's our bottom line. Whatever the fuck works. We got the guy, we even got that fourteen-year-old out safe."

"Yeah, right it worked. You've got a dead body, and you still say it worked? Thought we were trying to put them away, not six feet under." Ty's pissed too now.

"Oh, and you've never had anyone try to jack you? I seem to remember a few times _you_ had that happen. Look, we aren't fucking, this was cover, why the fuck do you even care? Is it the guy factor or the boss factor?" Dean's getting frustrated now. He had a feeling Ty was going to react like this, but he'd hoped he wouldn't.

"Both. You been lying to me, Dean? Are all those one-night-stands of yours girls? And Carter, that why you're not married any more?"

"If I'm not hitting on you and it doesn't affect how I do my job, is it really any of your damn business who I sleep with, Ty? You damn near got your wife killed because you had to go see her for her birthday, I don't think you've got a whole hell of a lot of high ground to stand on here." Normally Dean wouldn't throw that in his face, but right now he's angry enough not to care.

He'd told Ty not to go there and he'd pushed anyway--he thinks Ty pretty much deserves what he gets after that.

Carter's not even bothering to respond. Dean isn't sure why, but he thinks it's because Ty pulled the wife card. He knows Carter's not exactly straight, but he doubts that's what caused whatever happened to happen, not if she walked in knowing that too.

"It is if you're sleeping with _our boss_, Dean. How can I trust either of you under? It's not just the guy thing. If you're gay or bi or whatever, I don't _ever_ want to hear details, but I could deal with that."

Dean even agrees with that, but it doesn't stop him from pointing out, "I already told you we're not fucking. What's it going to take to get that through that rock you're calling a brain?"

"Hard to believe that when you're both all marked up. And I know damn well you're both professional liars--that's exactly what you would say if you were."

Dean's about ready to start pounding his head against a wall. He suspects it would be more productive than this conversation. "Would we be stupid enough to come in looking like this if we _were_? Give us credit for some brains, at least."

"If you're not, then why did your mind go there?"

Dean looks over at Carter, silently asking permission. Carter nods very slightly. "Because we pulled it off before. And why we did this then is _still_ none of your damn business. You don't think you can trust us because you think Carter and me are knocking boots, then maybe you should start thinking about that transfer he offered. I'm still willing to work with you even after this, but if you have such a problem with a little kissing to fool a target, maybe I should be the one who's worrying about whether I can trust you."

He just hopes Ty doesn't ask if he's ever thought about Carter like that, because he can't answer that truthfully without opening a can of worms and Ty can usually tell if he's lying. He doesn't know why he can't spot the truth now, and he's scared it's because he's seeing that kissing Carter wasn't entirely a cover. He doesn't know why Ty's taking this so hard, though. Ty's not usually this judgmental about cover stuff. And he's _seen _Ty flirt to help sell a cover before.

"Okay. I still think you're lying to me, but I'll go with it. If you start fucking up on the job _because_ you're fucking, though, I'm gone, and I'd better get a transfer to a good unit out of it."

Dean's not sure whether he wants to roll his eyes in disbelief or breathe a sigh of relief that Ty didn't dig any deeper. He figures that's probably the best they're going to get, though.

6. Digression

Jaimie'd been back with Scott for a while before she discreetly hinted at starting up with Dean again. Dean's been doing a string of random one-nighters still. He seems to be picking up the kinkier ones lately, though. The last one wanted to try pegging, and she'd just sucked him off for what felt like an hour of sheer heaven, so he just kind of went with it. And yeah, it hurt at first, but he's been shot and this doesn't begin to compare. It started feeling good real fast when she hit his prostate, just kept hitting it, and jacked him off with one hand. He's not sure because his mind was pretty well blown at the time, but he thinks he was whispering Carter's name when he was coming. If he was, he's surprised he didn't get slapped for it.

Not like Carter's the only one he thinks about when he's having a little alone time or anything, but he's gotten into something of a pattern after he's been under. Something about fantasizing about him seems to snap Dean out of the mess his head gets into then. He's not sure exactly why it works, but since it does, he just goes with it. It's got to be better for him than drowning in Jack, at least. He thinks it might be because he knows Carter as himself and it's definitely not something any of his undercover personas would do, not counting that little gig as Dante. He does his best not to do it otherwise, because that would be even weirder than this already is. He doesn't always succeed, though. And he's noticed that thinking about Carter then tends to get him off better.

He's giving serious thought to Jaimie's proposition. God knows it was really fucking good with her, and it'd be a big-time bonus not to have to do that whole lying to get laid thing, but he thinks she deserves more than he has to give. He's gotten to know her a lot better since they started working together, and even if she thinks she doesn't want complicated, the fact she's making a play for _him_ means she probably does. And he's starting to think he's maybe a little bit bi, and he doesn't think Jaimie'd be cool with that at all. He hasn't started noticing guys any more than he always has, and he sure hasn't started picking up men the way he picks up women, but the way he thinks about Carter every now and then means he's almost certainly not a zero on the Kinsey scale.

It still freaks him out a little when he's sober and hasn't just been under, though. But hell, his life is nine kinds of fucked-up most of the time, if the worst he has to deal with that day is some inappropriate thoughts about Carter, he figures it's a day in the win column. He's really hoping Carter never realizes that he wasn't entirely faking it, either for his mom or for Thomas, because that would _definitely_ get complicated.

He realizes he should really say 'yes' or 'no' already, because he's just been sitting there staring off into space for a while now, and Jaimie's probably going to get pissed at him real soon if she isn't already. He starts thinking of how to turn her down politely so they can still manage to work together when she lets out a string of swear words that would impress him if it didn't scare him so much.

"How long? Dammit, Dean, how fucking long?" she spits out, leaving Dean very confused.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Jaimie. How long _what_?" he asks her, honestly puzzled.

He wishes he hadn't asked for an explanation when he hears her next words, acid-etched.

"How long have you and Carter been doing the Brokeback thing, Dean? That why you won't say yes now? Cause I know you liked it plenty before. Didn't know you liked dick, too." Jaimie's not even looking at him now and he can still feel her disapproving gaze. "Were you fucking him while you were fucking me? Is that what it takes to get you off?"

Dean doesn't know what to say. Yeah, him and Carter have never done anything really hardcore by a long shot, but they _have_ done some not-exactly-straight things together. He takes too long to speak, and Jaimie seems to read the answer off his face. He tries, "We've never fucked, Jaimie. I don't know where you got that idea from. And I sure as hell wasn't thinking about him when I was with you."

"I _got that idea_ because he actually listens to you. He respects you. And you back each other's plays just by trading looks, nothing spoken at all." Jaimie takes a breath and looks like she's trying to calm herself down. She shakes her head after a long moment and says more calmly, "You really didn't realize what that combination could look like, did you? Guys _are_ stupid about this shit."

"No, I didn't." Dean thinks the fewer words out of his mouth right now, the better.

Jaimie's gone from thoroughly pissed off to looking almost amused in the space of a couple minutes, and it's leaving Dean a little discombobulated. Her next words throw him even more for a loop. "So what _have_ you two done, if you haven't fucked? Because you took too long to answer if you've never done anything."

He's really not sure how to answer that without getting his head snapped off again. He surprises himself by answering truthfully, "We faked being together for his mom right after the Lee case 'cause she was worried about his being alone and for one case. So yeah, kissed a couple times for his mom's benefit, got paid to make out with him once when I was under. I'm surprised Ty didn't tell you--he was pretty pissed when he saw the two of us all marked up the day after."

Dean's head is about to start pulling a Linda Blair move now, because Jaimie's smiling that slow, wicked smile that always got him hotter than hell back when they were still fucking. "I would have liked to see that. Bet you two looked hot together."

"Say _what_?" Dean's expecting the _Twilight Zone_ theme to start playing any minute now.

"Oh, like you've never thought two hot girls would look exponentially hotter together, kissing, sliding their hands up each other's shirts and down between each other's legs?"

Jaimie's still smiling slow and just a little evil, and Dean starts feeling an inappropriate twinge of lust. Dean can't deny that. Hell, he's watched some porn with Jaimie involving just that kind of situation, so she knows it turns him on. "It's not the same thing. And besides, weren't you about ready to blow my head off a minute ago because you thought I _was_?"

"That was when I thought you were doing him at the same time you were doing me and lying about it, dumbass. You ever thought about it besides then?"

Dean's pretty sure every X-rated thought he's ever had about Carter when he's drunk or too fucked up off the adrenaline letdown to care is plastered across his face right now, even through the undercover mask that he's doing his best to pull on.

"You have, haven't you?" Jaimie's almost laughing now, and Dean wants to kiss the amusement from her face.

"Just drunk and fucked up after being under," he mumbles, and wait a minute, is he _blushing_ now? "Hey, do I get to hear about you making out with a hot cheerleader in high school now?"

"Her name was AJ, and we were pretty good friends back when. Redhead, looked a little like a young Gillian Anderson, and it was a great way to get free drinks and stuff. Damn good kisser, nice soft hands. And yeah, we went farther than kissing a few times."

Dean _really_ wants to kiss her now, but he's smart enough to know that's probably a bad idea. He's not going to make the first move when she's still supposedly with Scott. "Uh, you aren't going to tell Carter or Ty about this, are you?"

"You already said Ty had a fit about just some cover kissing. I don't even want to think about how he'd react to you actually _wanting _to. And I'm not about to tell Carter. It might be fun to be a fly on the wall for their reactions, but no, I'm not doing that to you. I might have if you had been doing both of us at the same time, but I believe you that you never have. Although it is one _helluva_ picture," and that evil grin's spreading across her face again.

"As for your original question--do you still want to, knowing all that?" _Dean_ still wants to, now that the cards are on the table, but he'd understand if Jaimie doesn't.

Jaimie asks for some time, but she says yes eventually. They're not exactly back together--she's still with Scott, so Dean doesn't feel all that guilty about taking Naomi home. He wishes Jaimie and Naomi hadn't seen each other that time, though. He's fairly sure he hurt Jaimie's feelings being with someone else, especially since he couldn't even remember her name so it was obviously just sex.

The really ironic thing is that even though it's been good with Jaimie and he definitely still likes women, he _also_ still finds Carter disturbingly attractive and wants to do something about it. And now that it looks like she may have kicked him to the curb, he's thinking about going for it. He just hopes making a move on Carter doesn't fuck things up at work any more than they already are. He's still not happy that Carter ordered him to use Tivnan, but he can understand why. And he trusts Carter to follow through on his promise to put in a good word for him.

7. Courtship

Dean's not too sure how to go about courting a guy. He doesn't even usually court women unless you consider sweet-talking them into bed as courtship. And Carter's more important to him in a lot of ways than any of his one-night-stands could ever be.

He knows he'd better actually _say_ something, though, because he's pretty sure Carter'll have a heart attack if he just kisses him again. He thinks something fairly low-pressure is probably a good idea to start with, so he offers a dinner invitation, giving Carter the kind of look that should clue him in that his intentions aren't just friendly.

"Are you actually serious? Because I always thought you were completely straight, cover kisses aside." Carter sounds like he's in shock right now. "And I'm not about to mess up our work relationship any more than it already is just to be your bi-curious experiment."

Dean was expecting something along those lines, and he's got his defense planned out. "I wouldn't be asking _you_ if that was all I wanted." And that's true--if he just wanted to try the guy thing, he'd hit some West Hollywood bar and find a stranger.

"I'm flattered, but..." Carter trails off.

"But what? Ty already thinks we're fucking. Jaimie knows we've made out and maybe thinks that we've done more. You gonna tell me you never thought about it? I'd like to know how come you got hard when I kissed you on the Thomas job, then."

Carter doesn't even have to say anything--Dean can read it in his eyes that he has. He can see the hesitation there, too. He's not entirely sure why, but he can make some pretty good guesses. Carter's already said he doesn't want to be an experiment, and he _knows_ Dean's never been a long-term guy. He also knows Dean's never done more than make out with a guy, and maybe he's thinking Dean's going to have a problem doing more than that. Dean's already _had_ his freakout about the whole guy-guy thing, thank you very much. Unless Carter likes some pretty kinky stuff and isn't willing to deal with a certain amount of learning curve, he's not expecting a major problem--not after some of the fantasies he's had and the amount of experimentation he's done. He's more worried about whether he can actually stay faithful, because that's something he's never really managed. He's pretty sure Carter isn't going to be cool with him fucking around.

"I meant what I said about not asking you if all I wanted was something casual. Give me a chance to prove I'm serious. And if you're worried about whether I can handle being with a guy--I've always been a pretty quick learner, especially if I'm motivated." Dean smiles at that, hoping Carter reads _him_ as well as he usually does. He'd rather not spell this out any more than that. He's doing his best to make his body language show that he's sincere, and it looks like Carter's picking up on that. When he hears the next words out of Carter's mouth, he _knows _he is.

Carter laughs softly. "Come over to my house after this job and I'll cook you that dinner you wanted, then. I'm intrigued to see _how_ quick."

"That'll give me something to look forward to for sure--home cooking and the chance to see what it feels like when it's for real and we don't have to stop unless _we_ want to." Dean's smiling slow right now, remembering. Even kissing Carter for cover was pretty damn good, and going farther than that for real promises to be even better.

He's lucky--this job is over in less than a week, instead of dragging on like some do. He doesn't even get shot at, which is a pleasant change.

Carter takes him home to the best pancakes he's ever eaten. He licks the last of the orange sauce from his fork afterwards, watching Carter's eyes get darker as he does. They make out for a while on Carter's couch, trading kisses that started out slow and easy and rapidly got more intense. Carter finally pulls away when both their shirts have hit the floor.

"I want you in my bed, not out here, at least not tonight." Carter's looking away, like he's a little embarrassed to admit that.

Dean would usually be tempted to tease, but he's too damn hot to bother at the moment. The blood flow he'd need to come up with a smartass remark is all headed south right now.

They make it to Carter's bedroom somehow. Dean almost breaks the zipper on his jeans trying to get them off. Carter does a little better, but only because he'd changed into sweats to cook in. Dean falls backward onto the bed, pulling Carter down on top of him. Neither of them has the patience for anything that requires preparation, so Carter just wraps his hand around both their dicks and starts stroking. When he starts twisting his hand just right and licking Dean's neck, Dean loses it completely. He's not sure _what_ was coming out of his mouth then, for which he's grateful. He'd be a little embarrassed at how quick he came, except Carter doesn't last very much longer. For something that quick, Dean's pleasantly surprised at exactly how good he feels now. And the lazy, satisfied smile on Carter's face says the feeling's mutual. Dean won't admit it even under torture, but cuddling up afterwards once they've cleaned up a little feels surprisingly good too.

Waking up after their sex-induced nap with Carter playing body pillow feels even better.

Especially when Carter flips him on his back and starts nibbling his way from Dean's ear down to his collarbone. Dean's pretty sure he's going to be marked up again, but hell if he cares right now. And when Carter swipes his tongue across one of his nipples and then carefully bites it, Dean can't help making a little moan. Carter looks up with a smirk on his face and repeats the process on the other side. He licks his way down Dean's body slowly. Dean's really hoping this means a blowjob's on the menu.

Carter takes his sweet time, dropping a kiss here, a lick there and punctuating the whole process with an occasional bite on a meandering path all the way down one leg and up the other. Dean's biting his lip trying not to beg, and he's got his hands fisted in the sheets so he doesn't do anything stupid with them. When Carter finally takes pity on him and slowly licks his way up one side of Dean's erection, he can't hold back any more. "Please..." Dean doesn't even recognize his own voice right now, it's so husky from desire.

Carter's teasing even now, letting Dean's cock slowly slide farther and farther into the wet heat of his mouth until his lips finally meet the hand he's wrapped around the base. He pulls off just as slow, doing something positively evil with his tongue to the vein that makes Dean want to come _right the fuck now_. Dean doesn't know how much more of this he can take. Carter goes back down a little faster, scraping his teeth very lightly and flicking one of Dean's nipples with his fingernail. And that's it, Dean's gone like an explosion of fireworks, without even a chance to warn Carter. The one flickering brain cell he's still got is surprised by how smoothly Carter just swallows him down. He could get spoiled by this damn easily.

Enough of Dean's brain has leaked out his ears that he doesn't immediately notice Carter's still hard. He's not quite ready yet to return the favor, but he figures giving Carter a handjob shouldn't be _that_ much different than jacking himself off. The angle's a little weird, and he feels kind of strange doing this, but neither is anything he can't deal with. Not like he wasn't expecting a certain amount of adjustment here. He doesn't know exactly what Carter likes, so he starts out very slow and very soft. The last thing he wants right now is to fuck this up by hitting Carter's pain threshold. He's had a girl or two who grabbed him too hard, and that was no fun at all. Better to tease him a little bit--he deserves it anyway after driving Dean out of his mind earlier. He grips a little tighter, but he doesn't speed up just yet. On the next stroke, he tries a trick he always likes and drags his thumb across the tip.

Apparently Carter likes that too, because his breathing just got a little choppier. Dean wants to know if he can turn Carter on enough that he really makes some noise--he's starting to get into this for his own sake, not just doing Carter a favor. When he starts moving his hand faster, he gets his wish. Just a tiny, stifled sound, but he can't help grinning a little at it. He uses his other hand to cup Carter's balls and then roll them gently, and Carter lets out a full-blown moan. Dean's grin gets wider, and he keeps doing that for a little while. He's not sure Carter's going to be up for the next thing that comes to mind, but he asks anyway. "You got any lube here? I want to try fingering you if you're okay with it. I promise I'll be careful."

"Top drawer by the bed. And you damn well better be."

He's amused that Carter's still managing to give orders, even now when he's practically gritting every word out. When he reaches in and finds the bottle of K-Y, he slicks both hands up. He starts jacking Carter again with his right, while his left traces a path all the way back. He starts out with one finger, just circling, not even trying to get in yet. Carter's getting noisier, so he figures he's probably doing this right. He's just barely in now, only about knuckle-deep, and God, Carter's tight. He wonders how long it's been since he's done this. He _also_ wonders how all that tight heat would feel around his dick instead of his finger. He slides a little deeper, as carefully as he can. When his finger's buried as deep as he can get, he bends it, looking for Carter's sweet spot. It takes a little work to find it, but the look on Carter's face and the sounds he's making right now are well worth the effort. And when Carter _finally_ loses every last bit of control and comes all over Dean's hand, his grin of accomplishment practically splits his face wide open.

**Epilogue**

The night he got back after a month under as Dante again, Carter took him home and they jacked each other off on one of the folding chairs in his backyard. Didn't even get their pants all the way off before they came, and they were kissing each other hard to keep from making too much noise. When they got inside, Carter went down on him and prepped him slow until Dean was practically begging for more. That's the first time he ever got fucked for real. He's not going to lie and say it didn't hurt to start with, but Carter took it easy enough on him to make it feel _really_ good fast. He practically passed out, he came so hard, so he wasn't about to complain. He was aching the next day, but it was a good kind of ache, the kind that reminded him of how he _got_ that way.

Dean's never had this much sex with the same person in his life. He keeps expecting it to get boring or something, but apparently that's not happening. Just the opposite, in fact--the more they get to know each other's turn-ons, the better it gets. For a guy who claimed to be pretty vanilla, Carter's a hell of a lay, and Dean's been around the block enough times to be a good judge of that. Dean's learning things about his own reactions he never knew before. Turns out he can come just getting finger-fucked and having his nipples played with, which he never would have guessed. Carter just slid right in while he was still coming and fucked him into another orgasm before coming himself. He hasn't had that short of a recovery period since he was a teenager, and he's still a little surprised at it.

He mentioned his little bondage fantasy that this all started with to Carter one night, and Carter just smiled and told him to go for it. They ended up using an ugly tie Carter got for a present instead of cuffs, but hell if either of them cared. Being inside Carter felt damn good. So good that he's amazed that he managed to hang on long enough for Carter to come, and he couldn't have done it without using every bit of knowledge he's acquired to make Carter go up in flames. Carter returned the favor the next time Dean got back from an assignment. Dean did beg that time--Carter played dirty, especially putting a cock ring on him so he couldn't come until _he_ wanted Dean to. When Carter _finally_ unsnapped the ring, Dean came hard enough that he was seeing stars.

They're playing it safe. Dean's fucked enough people to be higher than average risk even though he's always used protection, and he gets exposed to blood some assignments besides. He's more worried about giving Carter something than the other way around--despite the prior guy experience, Carter's probably fucked fewer people in his _life_ than Dean managed a few months. He's still getting tested every three months even if the department only requires one a year.

They don't actually fuck as much as people would assume two guys together would. Carter's got this weird thing about not doing it when Dean's going under right away afterwards, and since Dean spends a lot of time under...Dean would mind a whole lot more if Carter's blow jobs didn't practically make the top of his head come off. He's not that good yet, but he's working on it. And yeah, it was weird the first few times, but watching Carter's control fall apart under his mouth was enough of a turn-on to get him past that pretty quickly. Carter's damn good with his hands, too--he's practically turned handjobs into an art form.

Carter's got a little kink for marking him up. Dean's fine with it, in fact kind of enjoys knowing he's wearing evidence, especially when he's under. Carter's careful to make sure whatever marks Dean's got don't show with clothes on, though. Ty and Jaimie know they're together, but that's no reason to flaunt it like a couple of dumb high schoolers. They wouldn't have traded hickeys on the Thomas job except for the "let's put on a good show" factor. Ty's still not cool with it, but a few jobs together have shown him that Carter's personal relationship with Dean isn't affecting their work one. Jaimie's a long way from thrilled either, considering her prior relationship with Dean, but she's dealt with worse things than this. She's appreciating the fact that it's making both Dean and Carter mellow out in different ways, though. Carter's way easier to work for, and Dean's starting to appreciate what she brings to their team more.

Fin


End file.
